


Back Together

by avaalons



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, Chris Evans - Fandom
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Make Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 00:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11794446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avaalons/pseuds/avaalons
Summary: Five months after your break up over something really stupid, you and Chris meet again at a mutual friend's wedding.





	Back Together

You paused at the door to smooth down the imaginary wrinkles in your dress, but mainly to try and steady your nerves. It had been five long months since the break up and you hadn’t laid eyes on him in the flesh since then. But, of course, meeting at a mutual friend’s wedding was inevitable and today would be the biggest test of all. How would he look? Would he be with someone? Brought a date? Or would he be alone, like you? Did he remember why you had broken up? Because night after night of scrolling through digital albums of your snaps and videos on your phone of the two of you rendered your memory useless and the events that led to you walking out that day were now hazy and vague. 

And now here you were, about to see him for the first time since then. You still hadn’t really got a game plan together for how you would act. Cool and aloof? Bright and breezy? Contrite and apologetic? It was too hard to decide but, regardless, you knew the moment you saw him, your brain would do its own thing anyway. 

Other guests had gone past you through the doors to be seated in the expansive ballroom where the ceremony was taking place and you knew you needed to move. What if he saw you here, nervous and hesitant? No, you needed to keep your cool and your head. So, as you approached the ushers, you took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders and steeled yourself.

‘Good afternoon, bride or groom?’ One of the ushers smiled at you. He was young and you vaguely recognised him from Facebook photos and get together held by your friends. Cousin? Nephew? 

'Uh… bride, I guess.’ Actually, you knew both Sarah and Matt pretty well and, in fact, it had been at one of their big summer barbecues that you’d met Chris. An orchestrated meeting, of course. Today’s bride and groom had been certain the two of you were perfect for each other, and they had been right, up to a point. You figured, however, that Chris would choose to sit on the groom’s side, having known him since high school, and you didn’t want to risk being too close.

You were directed to the bride’s side of the congregation and sat down, making small talk with the older couple next to you as you attempted to discreetly scan the room for a familiar head (do NOT think about running your fingers through his hair) and broad set of shoulders (and definitely don’t think about digging your fingertips into the muscles there). You took in some of the details: aunt and uncle, travelled all the way to Boston from London for the wedding. Sarah had lived with them for a year while she completed an internship straight out of college but they hadn’t seen their niece in person since then.

You couldn’t see Chris anywhere and the tension was rising within you. What if he wasn’t attending? That notion dawned on you with sudden horror - what if he hated you that much, wanted to avoid you so badly, that he wasn’t attending his high school buddy’s wedding? You felt sick and flip flopped between desperately wanting to see him and never wanting to lay eyes on him again.

The ushers were about to leave their posts at the doors. Matt and his best man were taking their positions at the front - it was about to start. Where was he??

Sarah’s aunt’s quiet voice drifted into your consciousness from your left side.

'We heard there was going to be a big movie star here, one of Matt’s friends apparently. We don’t really know who we’re looking for though. Do you think he’s here yet?’

You look at her incredulously for a split second - not because you couldn’t believe she didn’t know who Chris was but because the universe had inspired to her to mention him at that very moment as you were tearing yourself up inside over seeing him. A sudden rush of movement to your right had your head spinning around and then your heart stopped. There he was on the row of chairs across the aisle from you, quickly unbuttoning his navy blue suit jacket as he sat down, a little flustered but clearly relieved he’d made it in time. He was alone, and he looked good. As good as you remembered. He did a quick recce of the room and faltered slightly when his gaze landed on you. You stopped breathing. 

But then there was a half smile (slightly unsure, maybe even tinged with a hint of sadness) and a half wave of acknowledgement and you felt your whole body relax, tension fading away with surprising speed as your lips quirked up. The hardest part was done. 

You turned back to Sarah’s aunt, thinking about what Chris would have done in response to her innocent inquiries about the movie star guest.

'He’s probably a bit of an ass, like most of those Hollywood types,’ you grinned at her as the first chords of Sarah’s entrance music began and the whole room turned to look for her arrival.

***

The ceremony was gorgeous, Sarah looked ethereally beautiful and the happiness of the day was spilling over into all things. A tear or two had escaped your eyes as you looked between Sarah and Matt. You and Chris should have been stood side by side watching your friends get married, thinking ahead to the day when you’d be walking down the aisle to Chris’ smiling face. 

You had seen a few of your friends gathered and, seeing that Chris wasn’t currently with them, you integrated yourself quickly as the photographer was calling out for photos. You hadn’t realised how much you had missed them during yourself self-imposed isolation since the break up. You had thrown yourself into work and had avoided anything that reminded you of Chris, which unfortunately included all your mutual friends.

Lucy turned to you while everyone else was listening to a story from one of the guys, and spoke in a quiet voice meant just for you, a glass of champagne delicately held between her fingers, 'Have you spoken to him yet?’

You shook your head, 'No, not yet. He’s seen me, he knows I’m here. I’ve not seen him since we were in the ceremony.’

'He’s over with Matt’s parents at the moment. What even happened with you two anyway? I was so shocked when I heard.’

'It was so silly, I can barely remember. I think a lot of pressure had been building with our jobs and we were having a lot of time apart and… it was hard,’ you shrugged. There wasn’t an explanation, not really. It was just life, just one of those things.

Lucy gave you a look of sympathy, then looked over at him speculatively, 'Well, you never know. He’s not brought anyone with him today.’

'I’ve not heard from him in five months, Luce, I think it’s safe to say we’re over.’

'You don’t need to get back together to have a round of ex-sex, that’s all I’m saying,’ she raised her eyebrows and plucked another glass of champagne from the servers tray as one strolled past, 'Here, take this, you’re going to need all the help you can get.’

You inclined your head in acceptance, clinked your glass with hers and took a slightly unladylike mouthful of bubbles. You’d been so wound up, you hadn’t eaten at all so far and you knew, just knew, the drink was all going to go straight to your head. 

***

You had been relieved to see that you and Chris were seated at separate tables, although you had rolled your eyes slightly when you realised you had been seated at the singles table. Chris, meanwhile, was with some of Matt’s family, including one very giggly and bashful, but rather young cousin who had been tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder for so much of the meal, it was a wonder she managed to eat anything. She can’t have been any more than twenty years old but it grated on you all the same. You hated to admit that you were relieved to see Chris being nothing but polite and amenable. You knew what Chris’ flirt mode looked like and thankfully it was not switched on. 

You had managed to consume a few glasses of wine with dinner, and another glass of champagne with the toasts and speeches and by the time you excused yourself momentarily to head to the bathroom, your head was spinning slightly. Concentrating on keeping one foot in front of the other, you made it out of the room without bumping into anyone. 

On the way back, you discreetly paused at the main hotel bar for a glass of ice water, not wanting anyone to see you trying to sober yourself up at the reception bar where the wedding reception was being held. 

'Water already? It’s only six o'clock,’ a deep, velvety voice, tinged with amusement, came from behind you and you closed your eyes momentarily while you steadied yourself. You’d missed that voice. It still managed to send a tingle down your spine. Turning around carefully, your glass of water in hand, you suddenly felt shy and didn’t quite meet his gaze.

'Bubbles went to my head a little quicker than expected.’

He stood not three feet away, hands casually tucked in his trouser pockets, adopting a pose of deliberate nonchalance. When you did eventually look him in the eye, you immediately wished you hadn’t. You were surrounded by people but you may as well have been in a room alone with him, those blue eyes making you want to spill everything you’d refused to acknowledge for months now. I miss you. I want you. I still love you. 

Instead, you took a sip of your water. 

'You look good. Really good. A little on the skinny side maybe,’ a small, boyish grin appeared and it made it so easy to forget the arguments and the insults, hurtful words spoken in anger and passion. 

You shrugged it off, 'Well, work’s had me pretty busy. Constantly on the go. You don’t look so bad yourself.’

You didn’t say that you’d barely eaten for the first three months and even now, would still go forty eight hours having forgotten to eat a single thing.

Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with questions. Had he followed you out here? What did he want? Why wasn’t he flirting with Matt’s cousin? She was attractive and he was well within his rights to. Was he seeing someone? Why didn’t he bring her?  Did he want to have ex-sex? Why hadn’t he tried to see you or speak to you? Why hadn’t he called? Did he miss you as much as you missed him?

'I heard you went on a date.’

That silenced the bouncing in your brain at least. You were momentarily stunned.

'What - how did you? It wasn’t -,’ you stuttered defensively over the beginnings of sentences until you remembered you’d done nothing wrong and your eyes narrowed, 'We’ve been broken up for five months, Chris.’

'I know, but right now I can’t seem to remember why.’

He was still mildly grinning but that comment made your hackles rise. It was all suddenly crystal clear in your mind.

'I seem to remember you calling me a dumb bitch for accidentally spilling water on your childhood Pats scrapbook.’

At least he had the decency to look sheepish, 'That was very wrong of me and I’m beyond sorry. That was just a silly fight though, I don’t think that was why we actually ended things. It might have been the final straw but it wasn’t the whole cause.’

You didn’t really know what to say to that. Sure, he’d been pretty nasty to you but you had been awful back, you remembered, and he was right; ruining the one sentimental thing he held closest to his heart from his childhood may have started the argument but it wasn’t what finished it.

'Chris… I’m not sure what you want me to say to that. Surely we’re not going to rehash our whole relationship at the bar of Sarah and Matt’s wedding? What’s done is done, it’s over, we’re moving on.’

'I’m not.’

You drew in a quick breath at that as you realised just how much you’d wanted to hear that. But you were confused too.

'Chris, I haven’t heard from you in five months. That seems pretty 'moved on’ to me.’

He was shaking his head in disagreement, 'You left me. Not the other way around.’

The air was static around you as you held his gaze. The words of a million questions were beginning to form on your tongue, you just needed a few seconds to get them in order.

'Evans?! Come on man, Matt wants a picture of all the high school guys,’ a male voice drifted from somewhere close by. No, don’t take him away. I need… we need…

But before you could say anything, Chris had given you an apologetic smile and was off into the crowd, meandering around people to go and have a photograph with all his high school friends, leaving you, alone, with your water. 

You turned back to the bar, abandoning your glass on the glossy wooden surface, 'Excuse me, bring me a vodka, lime and lemonade please. Double. And a shot of tequila.’

***

The disco was in full swing, the DJ playing a whole host of songs that the bride and groom and their friends were reminiscing too. The lights were making hypnotising patterns on the wall and you were trashed. Luckily, Lucy had joined you so you weren’t drinking alone like a total loser. 

'How can he just say that, Luce? You left me. Not the other way around. Like it’s my fault we haven’t spoken in months,’ you were angry and slurring, perched on the counter top in the bathroom as Lucy attempted to refresh her lipstick.

'I know babe,’ she replied, bottom lip done and lipstick waving around in the air, 'He’s got no right. He can’t just show up here smiling at you and expect you to fall at his feet.’

'Tell me about it. What does he take me for?! It’s going to take more than that, thank you very much.' 

'I think you just need to take control. Accost him. Take him to your hotel room. Use him for the night. Let all your anger out.’

This seemed like the total opposite of what you should do, given your conversation up to now.

'But Luce, didn’t we just say he needs to work harder? Like, I can’t just go and throw myself at him.’

'No, no, no. You’ve got this all wrong. If you do the asking - no, telling - you’ve got the power. It’s not throwing yourself at him. It’s taking control.’

Lucy had always been better at dealing with the opposite sex than you. She was smart and sexy, and knew how to work a guy.

You made your decision. You stood up from the counter with purpose, turning to look at your reflection in the mirror. You plumped up your boobs in your bra, fluffed your hair and spritzed perfume lightly over your body. Chris wasn’t going to know what hit him.

'Taking control, that’s what I’m doing. I call the shots.’

Lucy nodded definitively, 'You got this.’

Rummaging in your clutch bag to make sure you still had the two key cards for your hotel room in there, you pulled one out and wrapped your fingers around it. One last glance in the mirror and you were ready.

***

Chris stood in the long line of his high school buddies, the seventh shot of the night in front of him, watching the server run the bottle of liquor down the line of glasses, filling each one with burning, sweet liquid. This was such a bad idea.

He had promised himself he’d keep his head while he was here. He couldn’t afford to get too emotional with you around. He was already regretting the things he’d said earlier - why had he mentioned hearing that you’d been on a date? He couldn’t have anymore of a creepy stalker if he’d tried - and that was after only one glass of champagne.

But here he was, doing shots with his high school friends. His plan for getting you back was going to have to wait, but maybe if he stopped drinking now, he could put it into action later. It was only - he glanced at his watch - eight thirty after all. Jesus. Seven shots in all before 9pm. 

'More!’ One guy said from down the line at the bar. Matt, the groom, started to shake his head while holding up his hands in surrender. 

'No, please no! I’d actually like to have sex with my wife tonight if that’s okay with you all,’ Matt begged out as a loud jeer went up from the group at the word sex. Apparently you can take the boys out of high school…

Chris saw his opportunity to take a break, 'I gotta take a piss so you bunch of losers decide what’s happening next while I’m gone.’

He stumbled away from the bar, shaking his head in amusement, but stopped short when he saw you across the room, leaning against a door way with your gaze fixed steadily on him. Chris suddenly felt extraordinarily hot under the layers of his three piece suit. You pushed yourself away from the wall and began a slow, confident walk towards him. God, you really did look amazing. 

'Hi,’ Chris threw out as you approached, and instantly regretted it. What was it about you that made him sound like a fucking idiot every time?

'Hi,’ one corner of your mouth quirked up as you mimicked his greeting, 'I was thinking…’

You reached out to brush some imaginary dust from his lapel. It felt so good to touch him again. 

'Hmm?’ was his intrigued reply.

'Maybe you’d want to make use of this,’ you held up your keycard, clamped between your index and middle finger. Without waiting for his reply, you slipped it into the breast pocket on his jacket, behind his pocket square, before turning around and walking back to the party. 

It was early in the evening, there was no way you were heading upstairs yet. You’d make him wait. You were in control after all.

Chris watched you sashay away, still trying to formulate a coherent thought. This was not part of his plan! His plan was to be a gentleman, to talk, to arrange to go to dinner, to apologise for not fighting harder, to lay out all his reasons for getting back together and what you could both do differently this time. He had not factored keycards and hotel rooms into the equation. But now the option was there and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t tempting. 

***

The next few hours ticked by unbearably slowly. You analysed every single thing you’d said and done up to this point and you wished beyond everything you had waited until later to give him the keycard. Passing it over so early just meant you had to endure pure torture for close to four hours. You weren’t cut out for this. It was a mistake. You couldn’t switch off your feelings and have just sex with him. You still loved him for God’s sake. What if he didn’t show? You didn’t think you could recover from the humiliation. 

Eventually though, it was midnight and the DJ was wrapping up with the slow songs. You were coiled so tightly, you felt you would snap any moment so you jumped when you felt a warm hand on the small of your back.

'Dance with me,’ came the deep, velvet reply, gentle and persuasive in your ear. His hand guided you to a spot on the dance floor and he gave you a little spin before settling an arm around your waist and holding your left hand in his right. You were flush against him under the disco lights as you swayed from side to side. It felt like home, and you felt like crying. Inexplicably, you knew he wouldn’t sleep with you tonight. He was going to be a gentleman.

He didn’t say anything so you tried to read his face but he wasn’t giving much away. You wondered idly how drunk he was. Could you just pass this all off as you being overwhelmed with the emotion of the day? All of a sudden, you felt desperately sad, as though all the efforts you had made to stay focused and present had just crumbled around you, letting all your grief in once more. You rested your weary head against his shoulder as you danced, afraid that he would see your eyes welling up if you’d stayed as you were. You could feel the tickle of his beard as his chin came to rest atop your head and you felt the loss of him for the last five months keenly. Breathing deeply, you remembered his warm, masculine scent and how   comforting and yet sexy it had always been.

‘I’ve missed you, baby girl.’

Your grip on his hand tightened, ‘Chris, don’t. It hurts too much.’

‘It won’t for much longer. We’re getting back together.’

That made you pull back to look him in the face as you raised an eyebrow, ‘You seem very sure of yourself, Evans.’

He simply smiled. It wasn’t an overly confident or smug smile. It was affectionate and maybe even a little bashful, ‘Come with me.’

He led you by the hand out of the ballroom through double doors onto the outdoor terrace. The air was cool and it helped clear your head slightly, as though everything was back in focus out of the heady emotion of the dancefloor.

He guided you towards a wrought iron love seat and tugged on your hand to pull you next to him as he sat down. Once seated, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to his side. 

‘We never should have broken up, should we?’

‘Chris, the reasons we broke up still exist. You’re still going to be away a lot and that will inevitably cause strain. We can’t change that.’

‘No, but we can deal with it better.’

There was silence for a moment as you gazed out over the gardens, twinkling in the night with subtle outdoor lamps. 

‘We haven’t spoken in five months. If we’re meant to be together, why did we just back out without a single word? Why didn’t we fight for what we had?’

‘Because we’re too stubborn?’ You could hear the smile in his voice, ‘I don’t know about you, but after I stopped being angry about our fight, I started waiting for this exact night, hoping the occasion might make you more amenable to my plan.’

You couldn’t help but scoff at that, ‘I didn’t make you work very hard, did I? Still got my keycard?’

Chris barked out a laugh, ‘Yep, but I don’t think I’ll need it.’

Your heart sank and cheeks flushed. This is exactly what you were afraid of. How could he say all of this and then just reject you so easily in the same breath?

‘You don’t want to…’ you pushed yourself up and made to get away. Run and hide in your humiliation. But his grip was firm.

‘Hey, that’s not what I meant. You are the sexiest, most attractive woman I know. I meant I won’t need it because we’re going up together. You can let me in yourself. No sex – I’m determined. I’m doing this properly. But we can talk about important things and chat about less important things and we can take a shower and lie around in fluffy robes and make out. You can fall asleep wrapped around me and tomorrow night, I’m going to take you on a date. A real pick-you-up, flowers-at-the-front-door date,’ he planted a kiss on the top of your head, ‘That sound okay? I’ll even pick up the whole tab.’

You grinned, ‘Sounds perfect. You got nowhere to be?’

‘Nope. I’m taking a few months off while I get my head together and focus on some things in my life that I only truly realised the importance of once they were gone.’

Your eyes threatened to well again and you couldn’t keep the words in as you whispered, ‘I love you.’

‘I love you. So much,’ Chris spoke with weight in his words.

‘Is it enough to keep us together, do you think?’

‘More than enough this time, I promise.’

Your chest filled with warmth, hope lighting you up from the inside out. You had a lot to thank Sarah and Matt for, as it turned out.


End file.
